“Not only that, but she was the only one you lingered with, other than LeAnn.”
I give Raven a sharp look. “I already told you about the situation with LeAnn and why I kept her close.”
“I know,” she says calmly. “Is there a similar situation with Ellie we should be made aware of?”
There are several things I could say about Ellie. I could sell her out for still having her cellphone. For sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet me. For admitting to the fact that she was here to promote her business rather than for me.
Instead I shrug again. “Just no spark there.”
“Huh,” Raven says, typing something on her screen. “Noted. If you keep her until the next round, we’ll be sure to put her in the elimination group.”
“That’s what the B group is? The ones I’m allowed to send home tonight?”
Raven sighs and sets her iPad aside. “You’re putting words in my mouth. And you’re looking for a fight when there isn’t one. We’re just trying to keep things as easy for you as possible.”
“And as interesting for the viewers.”
“Yes, and that,” Raven says. Her straightforward honesty mollifies me slightly.
“Speaking of keeping things interesting…,” Raven continues. She and Adam exchange a look, and I brace for whatever bullshit they’re about to spew at me.
Adam apparently draws the short straw, because he’s the one who lays it out there for me. “You haven’t kissed anyone yet.”
“So?”
“So it’s been two days.”
I lift my eyebrows. “You’ve never gone two days without making out with a chick? Or dude,” I amend, not really sure which way Adam leans.
“Shit, man, I’ve been through a six-month dry spell before. But I’m not falling in love on national television.”
Neither am I.
“We didn’t hire Gage Barrett because he was a prude,” Raven says.
No, you hired him because he lost a bet to someone who was supposed to be a friend. Not for the first time, I curse Wes for getting me into this mess, and then I curse Layla and Frank for not giving me a heads-up that I was going to be an uncle. Mostly, though, I curse myself for rising to the bait.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask, sitting back on the couch. “Whose mouth should I stick my tongue into?”
“Brooklyn,” Raven declares, at the exact moment Adam says, “Aurora.”
“Why not both? At the same time?”
I ask the question sarcastically, but Raven’s eyes light up at the prospect, reminding me what we’re really doing here—making good TV.
I push away the urge to argue. I’m an idiot—I know my fame comes just as much from my notoriety as it does from my talent. Maybe even more so, if I’m being totally honest.
“Sure, I’ll see what I can do,” I say, closing my eyes.
“Excellent,” Raven says, standing and going to the door. “You ready for the camera?”
She opens the door, waves someone in without bothering to wait for my response.
Five minutes later the makeup girl is fussing around me and dabbing shit under my eyes, telling me that I need to get more sleep; the sound guy’s clipping on my microphone while singing an off-key version of “Man in the Mirror”; and Adam is babbling about the impending word-association exercise. I mostly ignore all of them.
“Okay, you got it?” Adam asks as the crew moves away.
“Got what?”